Moments
by LydiaAnneArrow
Summary: The moments between Oliver and Felicity in the show. Follows the shows continuity. Oliver's POV.
1. Lies and Discoveries

Oliver sat, glaring at the laptop in front of him. The bullet-riddled machine was useless. A possible mother-load of valuable information was locked inside a dark, impenetrable hard drive.

Frustrated, he threw a coffee mug across the foundry and watched it smash to pieces against a concrete pillar. The rage in his chest only intensified, so he stood up and walked to the salmon ladder. For the next fifteen minutes, he climbed and descended the steel contraption as he thought of possible next moves.

James Holder died at the hands of Floyd Lawton before Oliver could get the information he needed. Before he could invoke the justice that Holden's victims deserved. And the laptop was Oliver's only lead.

A bullet-riddled, useless pile of metal.

He violently threw the salmon ladder bar to his side and stalked back over to the makeshift workstation in the middle of the foundry.

He needed an expert. Someone who could unlock the secrets of the laptop. Someone he could trust not to expose him.

He had no one. He had nothing and he cursed himself for an isolation-induced, unobtainable dream of inflicting revenge on the wicked men and women in Starling City. Nothing was happening the way he imagined it would. While alone on the island, he had one solitary thought: return to Starling City to make sure justice was served. Right the wrongs of his father. Stop the men and women who's names were in the wretched book he found on his father's corpse.

But his plans to take control of the spiraling city were complicated by something he never considered. People. Being around other people was decidedly difficult. Socializing was a foreign concept to this new Oliver. It had been years since his mind and soul were at ease. He longed for his isolated island. The tortures of Lian Yu were nothing compared to the torture of a mother that needed to believe that the past five years had never happened. A woman doting on her returned son. A woman ignoring the signs that her son had not actually returned.

Oliver Queen died in that ocean. Something else was born on that island and he had no patience for socialite dinners and company tours.

He had no patience for assassins who get in the way or damaged computers.

He had wanted to do this alone. To avoid any connections to other human beings. Just justice. He had nothing else left in him and he believed nothing good could be found in him again. Why bother trying to re-acclimate?

He drew in a deep breath and picked up his bow, firing arrow after arrow into the far wall.

01010101010101010101010

Oliver groaned as he dismounted his bike in front of Queen Consolidated. He placed his helmet on the seat and retrieved the laptop from the side bag.

After hours of research, he decided to ask for help from an unassuming woman in the I.T. Department at Queen Consolidated. First, he was a Queen, so he could use his name to feign authority. Second, she was a woman. He wasn't trying to be sexist, but he figured he had a better chance of sweet talking a woman than a man. Third, she was brilliant. A genius level graduate of MIT who was top of her class and was offered jobs at many top corporations around the country. Fourth, her background implied that she would be discreet. Oliver found a reference to a secret student group that dared to hack into an academic department database to expose the wrongdoings of an MIT professor. The police only had rumors and while they interrogated several students, trying to find the culprits, none of the students claimed any knowledge of the incident. The police found no evidence and the case went cold. But, the hackers succeeded in their goal - the professor was fired and prosecuted for his illegal activity. Though there was no evidence to link Felicity Smoak to the group that was rumored to be responsible, Oliver found many seemingly insignificant clues that told him that she was, in fact, one of the hackers. And finally, he uncovered that she was a member of a mystery club. It was a long-shot, but maybe she would be drawn in to helping him because of the intrigue.

As he traveled toward the I.T. department, Oliver hoped his gamble paid off. He needed to know what was on the laptop and he needed this woman to keep it a secret. He prayed his flirtation skills were still buried within him somewhere.

When he first entered the office, he found a curly-haired, blond, bespectacled woman in pink, chewing on a pen and rummaging through paperwork. She didn't notice him.

"Felicity Smoak?" he inquired, even though her name plate said as much.

She turned suddenly and stared dumbfounded.

"Hi, I'm Oliver Queen," though he hoped she already knew who he was.

"Of course! I know who you are. You're Mr. Queen," she responded, her eyes darted in every direction. Oliver sensed she was nervous. Nervous to talk to the prodigal son of the company? Oliver could work with that, but he also needed her to feel comfortable with him.

"Nooo. Mr. Queen was my father," he replied, hoping he added enough charm to the statement to draw her in. But as soon as he finished speaking, she was responding.

"Right, but he's dead. I mean he drowned!"

_What?_ Oliver thought to himself as he watched her flounder in her own words. But he couldn't dwell on the faux pas long, as she continued talking quickly.

"But you didn't...which means you could come down to the I.T. Department and listen to me babble."

_Was she for real?_ he thought as he watched her compose herself.

"Which will end. In 3, 2, 1."

Oliver jumped in at the first sign that she was going to stop talking, "I'm having some trouble with my computer and they told me that you were the person to come and see."

He prayed she didn't ask who 'they' were. He placed the laptop on the corner of her desk and took a deep breath.

_Here goes. _

"I was at my coffee shop, surfing the web and I spilled a latte on it."

"Really." She wasn't asking.

"Yeah." _Shit._

"'Cause, these look like bullet holes," she said, looking at him like he was the lying fool he absolutely was.

"My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood," He closed his eyes for split second. _Smooth._

He opened his eyes and found her glaring at him, head tilted, lips pursed.

_Heh. Cute. Wait. What the hell? _

He quickly composed himself, "If there is anything that you can salvage from it, I would really appreciate it."

He hoped her curiosity would override any desire she might have had to hand him over to security.

She silently agreed, but her body language said she wasn't stupid.

"Thank you. Please call me when you have something," he quickly handed her his number and turned to leave the office.

He walked at a fast pace, so distracted by his racing heart and startled brain that he slammed into a dark-haired man in the hall.

"Watch it!" the man said and looked up, "Oh, Mr. Queen. I..."

"Sorry," Oliver mumbled and kept walking.

_What. The. Hell._ How did she throw him off balance like that? Why did he feel like he was five years old and caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

When he reached the curb, he grabbed the helmet and straddled his bike. He shook his head before forcefully shoving the helmet on and driving off, leaving an intrigued I.T. girl gazing after him from her window.

01010101010101010101010

Several hours later, Oliver got a call from Felicity that she had managed to retrieve several files from the laptop's hard drive. He agreed to meet her at her office.

He took a deep breath after he hung up the phone and vowed to avoid the debacle of earlier in the day. Business. Get the information, get out. Avoid eye contact.

This woman made him more uneasy than the murderers in Starling City's dark alleys. _What. The. Hell._

As he mounted his bike to head to Queen Consolidated, he found that he didn't entirely dislike the idea of returning to her presence. She was unnerving, yes, but it was...invigorating.

He hadn't felt that way in a long, long time.

01010101010101010101010

In her quiet corner office, Oliver sat next to Felicity as she pulled up the files she had retrieved. She smelled clean.

_That was an odd thing to notice,_ he thought.

"Looks like blueprints," he heard her say and he refocused his attention to the screen and away from her scent.

"Do you know what of?" he stared straight ahead, avoiding looking at her.

"The Exchange Building," she answered. He felt her glance at him. He kept his gaze on the screen.

"Never heard of it."

"It's where the Unidac Industries auction is scheduled to take place," she revealed, looking at him. He finally looked in her direction. He had no idea what to do with that information.

"I thought you said this was your laptop."

_Shit._

"Yes," he nodded slowly. She wasn't buying it.

_Dammit._

"Look," she glared at him and smiled unhappily.

_How is that possible?_

"I don't want to get in the middle of some Shakespearean family drama thing."

"What?" he was genuinely confused.

"Mr. Steele marrying your mom," she said, as if it should have been the first thing he had thought of.

His brain hurt. What the hell was going on?

"Claudius. Gertrude," she waved her hand, "Hamlet?"

God, he felt like such a frat boy. Might as well go with it.

"I didn't study Shakespeare at any of the four schools that I dropped out of," _Yes, I'm clueless. Let's move on._

She took a breath and nodded. Oliver secretly thanked the gods of everything that she was going to explain.

"Mr. Steele is trying to buy Unidac Industries."

Oliver nodded. _Clear as mud._

"And you've got a company laptop belonging to one of the guys he's competing against," she continued.

Oliver felt a flicker of relief that he finally knew one of the answers and quickly shared the information.

"Floyd Lawton."

"No."

_What?! DAMMIT._

"Warren Patel," she revealed, pointing at the name on the screen.

Okay, that name was new. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Who's Floyd Lawton?" she inquired about the random name drop.

Oliver realized he revealed a little too much in front of a woman that didn't miss anything. He growled at himself and yielded the information.

"He is...an employee of Mr. Patel, evidently."

Felicity didn't respond immediately, so Oliver took the opportunity to quickly thank her and retrieve the laptop. He fumbled as the cables connecting the laptop to her computer halted his hasty escape. Felicity quietly detached the cables and sat back in her chair as a frustrated Oliver stalked out of her office.

As Oliver dashed down the hall, he could only think of two things:

Warren Patel and black painted fingernails on brilliant I.T. girls.

_What. the. hell._


	2. Monsters

He had called her because he had to. He had to be near her again. She did something to him that he could not explain. The darkness was not so overwhelming, if even for only a second. So he called her and asked her to meet him. They needed information, he told Diggle. She could get it for them.

He needed a fix.

He didn't tell Diggle that part.

An hour later, she sat across from him, a laptop balanced on her thighs. She was small in the large, leather chair, but she seemed no less fierce. He already felt uneasy and overwhelmed and invigorated.

He felt selfish and wrong, but he gazed at her anyway.

"I should add personal internet researcher for Oliver Queen to my job title," she stated nonchalantly as she prepared the computer.

Oliver couldn't fully contain the physical effect she had on him. He managed to mask the shutter of electric energy with a deep breath and a nod of the head. He drank her in like smooth vodka that burned his soul.

"Happily, I mean," she didn't flinch at his stony stare.

_Yes, here I am, the monster. I know you see me. And you are not afraid. You watch me. You make your mental notes. I will destroy you in the end. I will consume you and extinguish your vibrant light. And I am damned for it. Why do you look through me like that?! Why don't you run?!_

_Breathe. _

_Speak._

"His name was Derek Reston. We were close before I..." Oliver caught himself. His voice lighter. His eyes more open. _Where did that come from?_ He reset the stone mask on his face and continued, "...went away, and, I want to get back in touch."

"Guess you didn't have Facebook on that island," she quipped.

_You think you are solving the mystery of me. But you have no idea of the monster you are hunting._

"Nope. Not even a Myspace account. It was a very dark time."

Diggle. Oliver was so focused on Felicity, he had forgotten Diggle was there. Diggle seemed...amused.

_Amused that this vibrant creature was about to be destroyed by my monster? You should be angry, Diggle. Why aren't you angry?!_

"Well, there's not much here that's recent. No credit activity. No utility bills. Oh, I guess you guys must have met at the factory," she said, drawing her eyebrows down, understanding the absurdity of Oliver Queen ever even stepping foot in his father's factory.

"Wait. What... what factory?"

"The Queen steel factory. Derek Reston worked there for 15 years until it shut down in '07."

"Derek Reston worked for my father?" he inquired, slowly.

"You weren't really close friends, huh?" she knowingly answered.

_Bold. Called me on another lie. Careful how far you look down this rabbit hole, Felicity. _He watched her gloat in her assumed win. She had no idea.

"Looks like Derek was the factory foreman until your father outsourced production to China. 1500 employees got laid off," she continued. Professional, yet full of fire.

Rage swirled in his gut.

"Looks like the finance guys even found a loophole in the union contracts so they didn't have to pay severance packages and pensions to their employees. They all pretty much lost their homes."

Oliver's disgust over his father's wrongs was renewed. He struggled to contain his need to shatter every glass wall in the sickening, extravagant office of Queen Consolidated where they sat.

"Including your '_friend_'," she finished, unafraid to call him on the lie again.

Oliver shot a look at Diggle and stood quickly, stiffly.

"Thank you, Miss Smoak."

She sat quietly and glared at him, aware and alert. Even as he stood towering above her, she still held her ground.

_RUN! And leave me to be eaten by this darkness alone. Why do you linger? I won't stop pursuing you. I can't stop this addiction to your soul. You have to be the one to run. You must. I cannot control the monster._

He looked away from her with a sharp intake of breath and moved toward the elevators, sliding through the glass doors that he wanted to smash with every fiber of his being.

After four floors of silence, Diggle spoke, "she's interesting," he stated, staring ahead while riding the elevator down.

Oliver ignored him and itched to hold his bow in his hand. The hand that flexed at his side - the only indicator that he was about to explode.


	3. Never the Victor

Oliver quietly walked through the IT Department door and found her gazing intently at her tablet. He expected her to look up at him, her knowing eyes piercing him from above the frames of her glasses.

But she didn't.

_Felicity._

He didn't say it out loud. He felt a strange rush come over him as he studied her, unannounced, unknown. He had a quick thought that he could do this again sometime. From a neighboring building's rooftop. Watch her sit on her couch and drink coffee and type away on a laptop. She seemed like a coffee type.

He pushed the appealing, yet disturbing idea of stalking this woman out of his head. He was a stalker now?

_Those years broke me in more ways that I realized._

"Hey," he said abruptly, not wanting to think about his ugliness at that moment.

She jumped and looked straight up at him, and he thought, for a second, she looked almost scared.

And that killed him.

_One minute I want to stalk this woman and now I'm upset that she seems scared?_

The fearful glint in her eyes faded as quickly as it appeared and she attacked with crisp words and a solid stare.

"Don't you knock?!"

He couldn't help but chuckle inside at her quick switch. She was fascinating. He wondered where she learned to mask her fear. Why she ever needed to learn that skill.

Then he wondered if she wasn't masking it at all, but just pushing it away. Did she have an island in her past too?

"Felicity, it's the IT Department, not the ladies' room," he allowed himself the smallest smile, his gaze never leaving hers.

She smiled and sighed as she quickly locked her tablet. It didn't go unnoticed by his keen eyes.

_What are you hiding, Felicity?_

Perhaps her moment of fear wasn't about him after all. Perhaps it was about being caught with whatever was on that tablet.

_Are you helping other psychotic, shadow-lurkers?_

The thought made him sick to his stomach.

"What can I do for you?" she said as she continued to clutch her tablet.

_Right. Don't just stand here like a crazy person._

"My buddy Steve is really into archery, apparently it's all the rage now," he began, a small part of him hoping that she would be intrigued.

"Yeah, I don't know why. It looks utterly ridiculous to me."

_Damn._

"Mmmm. Hmm," it took all of his control to contain his disappointment and frustration. What the hell was he expecting? A fangirl?

"Anyway,"

_Stick with the story, Oliver._

"It's Steve's birthday next weekend and I wanted to buy him some arrows," he popped open the tube he had in hand, keeping his peripheral vision locked on her as he explained.

Her lips closed and pursed. Those eyes. Those knowing eyes.

"The thing is, he gets these special, custom made arrows and I have no idea where he gets them," he settled his full gaze back on Felicity.

He couldn't quite place her expression. It wasn't fear, but her mask certainly wasn't in place. She stared at the arrow with...fascination. Which is what he had desired in the first place, but now that it was there, he was on high alert.

_No, no, Felicity. Don't be fascinated by this. This world will only bring you pain._

But he had already gone this far, he had to finish this evil, selfish lie.

With the slightest grimace, he continued, "I was hoping you could find out where this came from."

_Why do I keep pushing my way into this woman's orbit?_

He carefully held the arrow out to her, part of him hoping that she would tell him to get out or she would call security and part of him terrified that she actually would.

She reached for the arrow and he hesitated, pulling it back ever so slightly.

"Careful."

"Yeah," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. Her delicate hand, with one nail painted red, took the arrow from him. Suddenly, he was reminded of Shado - her small hands holding an arrow - and he jerked his hands away.

As she studied the arrow, Oliver sat down, trying to contain his painful memory.

Shado. Poor Shado. Would he be the reason another beautiful creature died?

She spoke her thoughts out loud as she studied the object of violence and death in her hand.

"The shaft's composite is patented," she nearly mumbled and tapped her laptop screen with that fragile, delicate finger.

He sat still and stared at her, barely breathing. The amount of anger he felt with himself for handing her that arrow surprised him, but he was pulled from his trance when he noticed her presence had changed. She exuded confidence. She had found something.

"And that patent is registered to a company called Sagittarius," she wore a victorious and slightly smug smile as she handed the arrow back to him, "that's Latin. For 'the archer'."

"Really," he took the arrow and swiftly placed it back in the tube, "could you find out where and when this was purchased?"

She immediately pursed her lips together and looked back down at her computer screen. He recognized that expression. She knew he was lying.

Again.

But instead of calling security, she just sighed with annoyance.

He leaned forward the slightest.

_Are you angry with me?_

She was a little frightening, actually. What would possess a sane, intelligent woman to respond to his strange questions and requests? What was going on in that mind of hers?

"According to Sagittarius company records, that particular arrow was part of a bundle shipment...200 units," she raised her eyebrows at the large quantity as she scribbled something on a piece of paper, "sent to this address."

She held the paper out to him with the same smug, slightly annoyed look on her face.

_Yes. I understand._

"Felicity," he said and then hesitated.

_You won another round, Felicity._

"You're remarkable," he said with every ounce of honesty he owned.

She lightened and smiled, "Thank you for remarking on it."

_Do you have any idea how you confound me?_

He couldn't remove the half smile from his face and feared that he would sit and stare at her for hours, so he quickly looked away and stood, suddenly at a loss for words.

Quickly, he said the only thing that came to mind. A generic, emotionless gesture that he had heard in nearly every conversation he had eavesdropped on that day.

"And Merry Christmas."

_Oh Hell._

He turned to escape, but then he heard her voice again.

"I'm Jewish."

_Dammit._

How did he manage to leave every meeting with this woman in a flustered, confused state? He turned back to her, frustrated with himself.

"Happy Hanukkah," he looked into her eyes, hoping she would know he was being genuine before turning on his heel and retreating as quietly as he had entered.

_Pull yourself together._

Clearly, he wasn't going to be the victor in any battles with Felicity Smoak.


	4. Battle of Smoak

Oliver paused outside the familiar IT Department door and took a deep breath.

_I will win this round,_ he told himself.

He squared his shoulders and sauntered in to her office with all the playboy egotism he could muster. She immediately noticed him.

"And here I was beginning to think my days of being Oliver Queen's personal computer geek had come to an end," she said quickly as she set her take out carton down and straightened papers on her desk.

Oliver watched with...what did he feel? Pride?

_Yes, she's MY personal computer geek._

"Is that your way of saying you missed me?" _because I've missed you_, he added internally. He rubbed his fingers together as he listened for her answer, hoping to relax his nerves.

"No."

_Uh..._Oliver stopped rubbing his fingers for a millisecond. That response was unexpected.

"But, if it works for you, go with it," she added quickly.

"Heh," he chuckled nervously. _No Oliver! Pull yourself together! _"So, a friend of mine is running a scavenger hunt and there's a case of Lafite Rothschild 1982 waiting at the end."

He smiled inwardly. Her lustful reaction was exactly the reaction he was looking for. He knew that Felicity liked red wine and he knew she would know about Lafite Rothschild. He had discovered that she had taken a wine course in college.

"I love red wine," she breathed seductively.

_I am definitely winning this round._

"But in order to find it, I first need to get through this," he held out the security fob and kept his laid back demeanor.

_Please be too distracted by the wine to catch my lie._

"Hmm," she took the device, "security fob."

Oliver walked around her desk as she opened the small device. He leaned in and suddenly remembered the first time he was so close to her. She had been wearing pink.

_Focus, Oliver._

She plugged the device in and a security page appeared, "It's PIN protected. Challenge response goes back to a company called Blackhawk Squad Protection Group."

"Yeah, my friend had his bodyguard set it up for him, personally, I, uh, think it's cheating, but whatever," he answered, hoping she didn't notice the slight falter in his voice.

"This is a military-grade cryptographic security protocol. Your_ 'friend'_ really went to all this trouble?" she looked him in the eye.

_Dammit. Every time._

"The idle rich are hard to entertain," he lied and watched to gauge her reaction. She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips together, as if to say "Yeah, right."

_Shit. Reign this in, Oliver._

"Listen, you get through it and one of those bottles of wine is yours," he reminded her of the wine, hoping to distract her from her accusatory thoughts. He finished by tapping his finger on her shoulder and walking away before he became flustered by her, like usual.

He didn't look back, but he heard her fingers start tapping on the the keys again. Thank God.

The mission wasn't over yet, and he would have to talk to Felicity again before all was said and done. He hadn't won the Battle of Smoak yet, but he felt like he had a pretty good lead, so he allowed himself a smug smirk as he faded from her view.

The game was on.

0101010101010101010101010101010

The next day, Oliver bounded down the stairs to his basement lair in the foundry when his phone rang and Felicity's number flashed on the screen.

He answered the phone with as much rich-boy nonchalant swagger as he could, "What did'ja get?"

"I think your friend's bodyguard gave him the wrong security fob," she said flatly. He was right about this guy, wasn't he?

"Why is that?" he asked, not liking where this was going.

"Well," she began, "once I got past Blackhawk's authentication system, there wasn't anything about a scavenger hunt."

Her voice was dripping with accusations.

_Damn._

"Just a directory. Well, I think you've stumbled onto, or got me to stumble onto, something pretty illegal," she continued.

"Define illegal."

"Oh you know, robbing an armored car with grenade launchers and tear gas."

"Wa, what?" his voice lowered and quieted. This wasn't a game anymore.

"Someone at Blackhawk was using their system to store detailed routes and schedules for each of the cities seven major armored car carriers," she explained.

Rage raced through him. He _was_ right. And Diggle. How was he going to tell Dig? And now Felicity was involved.

_Shit._

She kept describing the contents of the security fob as Oliver struggled to contain his anger, "including the three that have already been hit. Mr. Queen, I think we should provide this information to the police.

_No! _"Wa.." he tried to stop her, but she continued.

"With it, they should be able to predict the next heist."

"Hold on. Felicity? I don't want to get you in trouble with my friend, so do me a favor, forward that directory on to me and I'll get it to the police personally. Thank you," he said quickly and abruptly hung up.

_DAMMIT._

010101010101010101010101010

Two days later, Felicity came across one of the many Starling City blogs that followed the vigilante's activities (as best they could).

A headline caught her eye,

"THE HOOD INVOLVED IN STOPPING ARMORED CAR HEISTS IN THE GLADES."

Felicity tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"Scavenger hunt, my ass."


	5. Vertigo

As Oliver rode up the elevator with Dig, he felt like he was being spun around in a washing machine. The ding of the bell when they reached their floor in Queen Consolidated was the nail in the coffin.

As the doors opened, he felt like he would hurl right there. He stumbled against the wall just outside the elevator doors and felt Diggle take his arm.

_Need to puke. NO. Felicity._

He shook his head and righted himself. He heard Diggle say something about a hospital.

"No," he whispered exasperatedly. _Felicity's right there. I've been through worse._

"...permanent damage." Diggle was still talking. Oliver shook his head and figured Dig was going to hit him extra hard the next time they spared.

_That'll hurt._

Blonde curls.

_Okay. Here we go._

"Felicity, hey. They said you'd be up here," he said as casually as he could.

_Don't puke on her._

"You look like something the cat dragged in," she began, slowly.

_Cats. Swirling cats and window blinds._

"Not that there are cats..." she quickly continued, louder than before.

_Oh my god. _Her voice actually hurt his brain. This was like no hangover he'd had before. He struggled to stay upright and alert.

"Fur... Static..."

_What the fuck?_

The swirling window blinds were too much.

_Oh god._

"Would you mind stepping away from the window for a moment. I have a little bit of a hangover," he said quickly.

_And I might puke on you._

"...not the IT department," he heard her voice continue as they turned around.

_Shit, what did she say? Blood? Pretzels? What the fuck?_

He concluded she must have been talking about his hangover, though he couldn't figure out what the hell bloody pretzels had to do with it.

Just thinking about that made him want to hurl.

_Shit. Just get this over with._

"Actually, my buddy Kevin is starting an energy drink company. He says it's fantastic for curing hangovers," he began. _I should've ran this by Diggle, _he thought to himself as the words came out of his mouth, "I'm very particular about what it is that I put into my body," he cringed as he said it, feeling the urge to hit himself.

He was sure Dig would give him a good punch for that one too.

"I've noticed," she said, and he nearly smiled. But then, as if in slow motion, Oliver watched a horrified expression appear on her face.

_Adorable,_ he thought to himself as he smiled.

"...not noticed...right?!"

It took everything he had not to reach out and pet her face and hair.

_What the fuck Oliver!?_

He quickly reigned in his thoughts. Clearly, Felicity and Vertigo were not a good combination for Oliver's self control.

He stuttered and chuckled as he tried to continue, "I'm trying to find a secret recipe. Could you do a spectro-analysis of this sample and find out exactly where in the city this is made?"

He thanked God he had practiced saying sprectro-analysis 800 times in the car on the way over.

He watched her as she pursed her lips and took hold of the syringe, slowly looking up at him. She licked her lips angrily.

_Shit._ He was a little frightened...and a little turned on.

She was still talking. What did she say? He was sure it was something along the lines of "what the fuck are you trying to pull here?"

"Why...a syringe..."

_Right._

"I ran out of sports bottles," he blurted out.

_Oh for fuck's sake._

At that point, Diggle walked away and Oliver watched as Felicity gave him a look that said, "Screw you, liar."

_I swear on everything currently spinning that I don't think you are stupid and I am sorry and you are pretty...Wait...,_ he prayed he didn't say all that out loud. Apparently he didn't, since she simply mouthed 'okay' and walked away annoyed.

Oliver composed himself and made his way to Diggle at the elevator.

"You're BS stories are getting worse," the authoritative man said, helping him into the elevator.

"Well aware."

As Oliver focused all his energy on remaining upright while the elevator descended, he had only one thought swirling through this head...

_She noticed._


	6. Revelations

Oliver sat, unmoving, at the bar in Big Belly Burger. Rain fell on the window and car lights blended into the darkness in blurs.

Vertigo. It was done. The Count was captured. The drug had finally faded from his body.

He stared into the darkness as he remembered the last time he felt so disoriented and unbalanced.

The island.

Memories flooded his mind and he felt like he was drowning again, cold water pouring into every opening on his body. He remembered thinking that it hurt to fill up your eye sockets with water.

_Shēngcún._

Oliver snapped his eyes open and breathed in the familiar smell of the restaurant. He felt the weight of everything on his body and longed for sleep.

But he couldn't rest yet. He was here to meet Felicity. She had called him and asked to meet him somewhere.

Actually, she had said, "somewhere public. I mean, of course it's public. It wouldn't be a private meeting. I mean, not like private private. I just mean not Queen Consolidated. And you know, not... I mean. How about a restaurant? I'm not asking for dinner though. I mean...I just need to talk to you. You know...about stuff. Wait, not like.."

He had finally cut her off, recognizing that she might have rambled until she suffocated herself.

He suggested Big Belly Burger.

She had seemed surprised, but she agreed.

"...best burgers in the city," she said, which launched her into another ramble about not having called to invite him to dinner.

What she _had_ called about was a mystery to Oliver. This was a first for them. He had always come to her with some strange story and odd task. Was she returning the favor?

Oliver hadn't considered that scenario when he decided to approach her so many months ago.

Maybe it was casual, despite her many attempts to claim otherwise. Perhaps she would ask questions he couldn't answer. Maybe she would make a move.

He hoped not. Not that he didn't think she was amazing. She was. She was fascinating and intoxicating. But she was good. She was light. He would have to push her away if she asked those questions. It was better for her to be kept at a distance. Safer.

What else could this meeting be about? As he pondered the possibilities, she walked past the window and he waved. She was rubbing her hands together and smiling nervously. He smiled with genuine affection and fascination.

"Hi," she nearly whispered as she rounded the corner and slowly walked closer to him.

Suddenly, his heart froze and he panicked. She was so close. This was real. Why was she here?

_Oh god, please don't ask questions I can't answer. I can't push you away. I can't lose you._

"Hey," he managed.

"Thanks for meeting me here...nervous to come to your house," she chuckled shyly.

"Yeah, okay," he chuckled back. Why are we here? Together? Anywhere. You and me. Why?

As she began to speak, he noticed she looked different in the evening light. Warm.

He felt cold and tired and alone.

_Polar opposites, aren't we?_

He listened intently to her voice, "the thing is, I've been debating whether or not to share this with you for weeks,"

_Wait, what? _He had never been more terrified and desperate to hear the next thing someone would say in all his life.

He leaned in and focused on her, willing her to speak.

"Can I trust you?" she finally asked.

_Wha...?_

Her question was unexpected. Where was she going with this?

"I'm not an idiot," she began, forcefully.

_Oh shit, here it comes._

He tried to play it cool as she continued.

"You've dropped some fairly ridiculous lies on me and...yet...I still feel like I can trust you," she finished, barely smiling.

_Okay..._

He wasn't expecting that either.

"Why is that?" she asked softly.

"I have one of those faces." he shot off quickly, like he did so many times before. Before the island.

But he immediately regretted the statement. He wasn't that guy anymore and Felicity wasn't one of those girls. He watched as she let out a frustrated sigh and looked away from him.

_Dammit._

"Sorry," he began. He was going to have to let down his facade to make this right, "Yes. You can trust me," he finished, looking into her eyes completely and honestly. _I won't lie to you tonight._

She gazed at him and seemed to understand. How did she do that?

"Then, I have something to show you," she said, as she began to reach into her shoulder bag.

Her hands appeared again, holding a small book.

His father's book. Only it wasn't.

Felicity is a part of this? How is that possible? She can't be tainted with this!

His heart lodged in his throat as he considered all the possible reasons this horrid book would be in the hands of this beautiful, kind woman.

She held it out to him and for a moment he was paralyzed with emotion. Rage, fear, anger, confusion.

Pain.

When he finally took the book from her, he swallowed back the overwhelming desire he felt to scream and run. He opened it.

Names. All of them. Identical. He had that book memorized. Every name, every page.

It was identical. And it was in his father's handwriting.

And Felicity had it.

_Fuck. No_.

How did she have this? Was this because of him? what had he done?

"Have you ever seen this before?" she asked, almost accusative.

"No," he answered. He wasn't lying. He hadn't seen _this _book before. He had never considered the possibility that more of these books existed. What could it mean?

He couldn't look up at her, fearing she would see too deeply inside of him, "where'd you get it?"

_Please say you found it. Lying around in Queen Consolidated. You're curious. You could've just found it. Please say you just found it._

"From your stepfather."

_What the fuck? _Walter was part of this too? He couldn't process the information.

"From Walter..." he barely got out. He was fully unable to contain his emotion now. He looked up at her and she clearly saw right through him, "Uh. Um. Where did he get it?"

Walter couldn't be part of this too.

"He said he found it in your house."

_Right. Dad must have had a backup._

"And that it belongs to your mother," Felicity continued.

Oliver felt his skin go numb and the world faded away until all he could see in the darkness was Felicity's face.

_My mother. No. This isn't possible. Walter was mistaken._

"Walter thought she was hiding something. Something more. And...he wanted me to look into it, but then he vanished."

Oliver began running scenarios through this mind.

"I think this might have cost Walter his life," she finished, her voice cracking the slightest bit.

Oliver immediately thought about Felicity's life. She was in danger. If anyone knew she had the book, she would end up like Walter. Gone. Taken. Possibly dead.

_And you came to me. You trusted me, _he thought, a warm, unfamiliar feeling welling up in his chest.

He vowed in his heart to protect her. She trusted him. He trusted her. He didn't know what this was, but he knew he needed her to be safe and near.

As he sat there, processing all that he had just learned, the book burned in his hand. He was sick at the thought that his mother could possibly have something to do with Walter's disappearance. Was she capable of that? Was his mother like his father? She couldn't be.

It was all too much. He stood up and looked down at Felicity.

"Thank you, Felicity. I'll look into this. Don't tell anyone you had this. I don't want anything to happen to you."

She looked up at him, worry in her eyes and he found himself reaching out and gently squeezing her elbow.

Before she could respond, he pocketed the book and walked out the door of the restaurant. The misting rain quickly dampened his face and he closed his eyes.

Shēngcún.

If this book was in the possession of his mother, he shuttered at the thought of what she had done to survive. What the dangerous people whose names were inscribed in the book had done. What they had threatened.

He couldn't think and he couldn't stop thinking.

His head spinning, he turned on his heel and bolted down the blackened street, hearing the faint sound of Felicity's shoes hit the pavement in the distance.

Everything was different now.


	7. Escape

Oliver felt the bullet rip through this shoulder and he fell to the cold floor with a thud. His mother, the shooter, was calling for security.

_"Well, this is a whole new level of family dysfunction."_

He had to get out of there. He pulled himself up off the floor and grabbed his bow. He ran toward the broken window, but he couldn't escape via the zip line he had used to enter. Quickly, he grabbed a repelling arrow, shot it into the floor the office, grabbed the line and jumped.

As he fell toward the ground, he knew he needed to break his momentum by crashing through one of the windows. It was late - most of the offices should be vacant.

Sharp pain and flashes of white hot heat surged through him as he shoved his body into a window pane and rolled to a stop on the office room floor. He lay in silence for a fraction of a second and took in his surroundings. Empty. No footsteps approaching. Security was probably headed toward his mother's office. But security cameras would find him soon enough.

He bolted to his feet and groaned as he grabbed his bow and headed for the hall. In full health, he could easily get out of the building and escape into the city. But his clarity and energy were quickly failing. He was losing a lot of blood.

Thinking of Diggle, he whispered to himself, _"I picked a hell of a time to not wear a comm."_

He checked his phone...broken. Brilliant. He couldn't call Digg from a phone in the building - it could be traced. He needed a way back to the foundry and fast.

There was only one option.

_"Felicity."_

He was planning on bringing her further into the mix since she had trusted him with the information about Walter and his mother, but he hadn't planned on doing it so soon. But hey, the same thing happened with Digg.

_"Guess you get initiated tonight, Felicity."_

He made his way to a stairwell and peered over the railing. 10 more floors. He needed to get down there fast. He quickly judged his strength and took a deep breath. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he climbed over the railing.

_"Here goes."_

And he jumped.

It wasn't a pretty display, but he made it to the sub-ground floor in one piece. As he fell, he grabbed railings to break his momentum. He had missed a few along the way and could feel the throbbing in his shins, thighs, and arms. After a deep breath, he made his way to the parking garage.

He knew what she drove. It was in her file for Queen Consolidated, which he had read several times. He thanked the stars that Queen Consolidated had a departmental system for parking. She would be somewhere in the northwest quadrant. He made his way to the area and searched for her red vehicle.

Upon finding it, he proceeded to pick the car lock and crawl in the backseat, closing the door behind him. He lay panting, praying that Felicity would leave work on schedule, since she tended to keep an organized schedule.

After a few moments, he heard footsteps approaching the area. He hoped she didn't look in the backseat before getting in the car. Running off to find security before she realized it was him would be...messy.

But, he'd have to talk to her about always minding her surroundings.

He heard the electric locks click and listened as Felicity crawled into her car and began situating herself in the driver's seat.

He immediately realized he hadn't really thought about how he was going to reveal himself to her. He really hoped she didn't have a weapon in her purse. Or pepper spray in her hand.

He'd talk to her about those things too. A woman walking alone in a parking garage in Starling City? She should be armed.

In the brief second it took for Oliver to realize he didn't have a plan, Felicity had turned to back out of the space, immediately noticing the vigilante in her back seat.

"OH!" she exclaimed, startled at the sight of him.

He quickly grunted and tried to pull himself up a little, "I'm not going to hurt you Felicity."

"How do you know my name?" she asked, fear flooding her words.

"Because you know my name," he croaked out as he clumsily removed his green hood.

"Mi...Oliver...Oh...wow," she spoke, trying to process the information, "Everything about you just became so unbelievably clear."

Oliver struggled to stay alert as he watched her take in everything.

"You're bleeding!" she suddenly noticed.

"I don't need to be told that."

"You need a hospital!" she started to turn to drive, but Oliver quickly stopped her.

"Wait. My father's old factory. In the Glades," he barely articulated, breathing heavily.

"You...you need a doctor, not a steelworker."

"Felicity. You have to promise me that you will take me to my father's factory and nowhere else."

She considered the situation for a second and then answered, "Promise."

"Something tells me blood stains are not covered under my lease!" she exclaimed as she drove out of the parking garage and turned onto the street.

Oliver felt his clarity slipping away, "Felicity," he coughed.

"What? what? Should I stop?" she said panicked, as she spun her head back to look at him.

"No. The code. 141."

"The code for what?"

"Door."

He was barely keeping it together.

"South alleyway. Diggle."

"Okay, okay. 141. South alleyway," Felicity listened to Oliver's raspy breathing as she headed toward the Glades, "Oh my god. Please don't let him die."

As Felicity drove, Oliver faded to black. The last thing he thought was how much he prized this kind woman.

_"At least, if I die, the last thing I experienced was kindness."_

* * *

**Okay! There will be a resolution in the next chapter. I thought about also giving Felicity and Diggle's points of view in Odyssey, but I don't think I will in this story. I'll just skip to when Oliver wakes up. :)**

**Thanks for your reviews! I'm so glad you are enjoying Oliver's POV. I'm really enjoying writing it! :)**


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